


Easy come, easy go! (will you let me go?)

by Aria_Masterson1153



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, BUR AND SHARP REUNITED, Initiation/ hazing, M/M, Shenanigans, University, University hockey team, WHAT AN AMAZING COMBINATION, Weird Plot Shit, crack and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:53:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1398751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Masterson1153/pseuds/Aria_Masterson1153
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’ve got to be joking me,” Jon mutters as he watches Pat go into one of the guitar solos of the song, making a constipated face while strumming an air guitar and doing some hippie dance around Jon. A little bit louder, he says, “Pat, you are completely destroying Bohemian Rhapsody, Freddie’s not going to be happy about this.”<br/><br/>Pat completely takes the bait, and yells back, “You don’t know shit, Freddie Mercury is my spirit animal, yo.”<br/><br/>(<i>OR,</i> the one where Loyola rookies Jon and Pat try to find a golden hockey stick, but instead become a part of a sacrificial cult ritual)<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy come, easy go! (will you let me go?)

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Don't really know where this one came from, probably memories from camp, with hazing the newbies.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> As always, _handwaving or bust._ The timelines are a bit jumbled, as well as the circumstances. Just pretend this is how they met, OKAY? It totally happened this way..  
> 

  
_Fuck._  
  
That is all that can be said for the stupidity that Jon and Pat are currently undergoing.  
  
“Jon, you fucking dicksuck, you know I don’t even want to be a part of this stupid fraternity,” Pat mumbles as they trudge through the dark forest. “Like, I could be studying for my calculus examination tomorrow, what the fuck.”  
  
“Pat, shut up, you know we have to find the golden stick before dawn, or we won’t be allowed to enter the Blackhawks special dorm.” Jon whispers, as if it’s a fucking secret or some shit.  
  
A fucking scavenger hunt. A stupid hazing ritual is why Pat’s going to fail his calculus examination, not become part of his university’s hockey team, and obviously, fail university and eventually drop out. He should’ve listened to his mom and stayed in buffalo, rather than pursuing ‘broader horizons’ or whatever the fuck he said.  
  
If he stayed, he would’ve never had to meet Jonny, develop this major cock-blocking crush on him, and fall for his puppy eyes that convince him to do anything. Including this stupid scavenger hunt. Did he mention how stupid it was?  
  
“Jon, man, there probably isn’t a golden stick, they’re just setting us up for failure.” Pat says. “Or death, who fucking knows what kinds of animals are out in these woods.”  
  
“Pat, you don’t understand, I need to make this team-“  
  
“Of course I understand numbnuts; however, we technically _have_ made the team, seeing as we are both here on scholarships,” Pat patiently says, as he thinks about where Jonny said he was from; Winnipeg, was it? “I don’t know why you’re making such a huge deal of this, it’s some dumb golden stick, who cares?”  
  
“Making a huge deal? Pat, we have made a _part_ of the team. We have it signed on paper, but we haven’t been fully accepted by the guys yet. We _need_ to win this. We have to find that golden stick, wherever it is. It practically guarantees us immunity from Bur and Sharpy, do you know how good that is? I saw them prank this one kid, Campbell, I think. Poor guy, he was never the same after, left the team after like two practices.” Jonathan drones on, in the best robotic voice he can manage.  
  
“Oh wow, I’m terrified. Sharp? Bur? Just because they have no lives does not mean that they are going to ruin mine. I’m here to make this team, and graduate with my BSc. End of story,” Pat huffs as he continues to push past the bushes and dry twigs. “Look, we’re getting nowhere. Let me see that map again.” Pat says as Jon dutifully hands over the map from his backpack.  
  
“I think we’ve already passed that tree before, are we going in circles?” Jon questions as he surveys the area, checking the tree in front of them.  
  
“The trees are all the same, you fucking moron. It’s a forest, they’re all supposed to look the same,” Pat hisses as he scans the map given to them by the seniors of the Loyola Blackhawks, who were to blame for this ridiculous initiation.  
  
“Hey! Don’t be a fucking douche because you think you’re so smart. ‘Look at me, I’m so over some stupid initiation ritual. I can’t spend two hours with my roommate, who’s on the hockey team as well, because I’m so pretentious and need to study for my calculus examination, even though I’m already acing the class.’ Give me a break, Patrick, you’re just being an ass,” Jon yells, after mocking Pat’s stupid ‘judging’ voice.  
  
“Really hit the nail on the head with that one Jonny,” Pat yells back. “I am such an asshole, because I’m out in the fucking _freezing_ cold to help my stupid roommate, who doesn’t know how to use a fucking map and got us lost in the middle of the fucking woods.”  
  
He looks back at the map, and notices that they were in, what the seniors labelled, the ‘Fairy Forest.’ Real original, fellas.  
  
“Fuck yo-“  
  
“Okay, so if we head due east, we should be entering the ‘Romantic Rendez-vous.’” Pat interrupts, checking his watch. Damn, already 2:30 a.m. He’d have to settle for an 80% on this calc test then, seeing as he would be getting zero sleep tonight.  
Jon opens his mouth to speak, but Pat interrupts him again. “Oh, hey! I remember Bur saying something about this yesterday in practice! _‘Guess you and Toe-es need a secret rendez-vous, you two are getting sickening in practice,’_ he said. I thought he was just chirping us as usual, but hey, he gave us a clue so we can win!” Pat says, a blinding grin lighting up his features. Jon, however, is not as convinced.  
  
“How can we trust that though? Don’t forget Pat, this is Bur we’re talking about,” Jon says, feeling extremely cautious. Last time he trusted Bur, a cup full of Gatorade powder came crashing down from his ‘new’ helmet that had apparently needed some repairs. So, please excuse his reluctance to trust them, but he was not short of evidence backing up his reasoning.  
  
“Oh, stop being an uptight little bitch, me and Bur are bros, man,” Pat says as he tucks the map back in his pocket, clearly not trusting Jonny with orienteering any longer. “Bur wouldn’t do that to us, we’re just _helpless widdle rookies,_ ” Pat says in a baby voice, using his big blues to mimic a baby face.  
  
“Fine, whatever, but if we die...I’ll kill you,” Jon knows it didn’t make any sense, but hey, Kaner brings out the worst in him.  
  
They check the compass on Pat’s watch, ‘a total bargain, Jonny,’ and begin to head due east. Patrick begins humming a song that is familiar to Jonny’s ears, but he just can’t place the name of it.  
  
“Can you just shut up?” Jon grumbles, trying to envision a perfect world where Patrick Kane is silent, and he could find this stupid golden stick, be accepted by everyone on the team, and win consecutive titles, as the team had done in the past. Jonny really didn’t think it was much to ask for, but. Patrick Kane. That’s all he really needed to add.  
  
“Why, Jonny? Is my humming _bothering_ you? Would you prefer if I _sang_ instead?” Pat questions with false innocence, as if he wasn’t aware of the horror of his singing.  
  
Jonny doesn’t even grace that with a response, instead letting his unmatchable bitchface do the talking. By the way Pat’s eyebrows and mouth lift, he can tell that he didn’t completely mask the terror seeping its way into his features.  
  
With a deep inhale of air, Pat begins to sing _(scream)_ at the top of his lungs:  
  
_Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality..._  
  
Oh my god. He’s really bringing Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen into this. Jonny really does wonder what he did in a past life to be stuck with this idiot.  
  
“You’ve got to be joking me,” Jon mutters as he watches Pat go into one of the guitar solos of the song, making the noises while strumming an air guitar and doing some hippie dance around Jon. A little bit louder, he says, “Pat, you are completely destroying Bohemian Rhapsody, Freddie’s not going to be happy about this.”  
  
Pat completely takes the bait, and yells back, “You don’t know shit, Freddie Mercury is my spirit animal, yo.”  
  
“Oh yeah buddy, believe what you will,” Jonny’s doing this thing where he pretends that he hasn’t heard a word Pat’s just said, and humours him to stop Pat from talking. He knows that it frustrates Pat more than anything, but tonight, with Pat missing an opportunity to study for calc, he should’ve expected what was coming to him.  
  
Pat bares his teeth, and sets his face into a murderous glare. He forces his weight back for a split second, and then launches himself at Jonny with as much force as he can muster. Jonny, thankfully, is not at all expecting it, so Pat has the advantage of surprise in relation to Jonny’s 30+ pounds of muscle over Patrick. The both fall to the dry dirt on the ground of the forest, with Patrick falling on top of Jonny.  
  
“Take that back, you asshole,” Pat forces out, as he tries to pin Jonny’s wrists above his head.  
  
Jon looks at him with wide eyes, then tries to shove him off. “Get off me you freakjob!”  
  
“ _Bismallah, no! We will not let you go! Let him goo!_ ” Pat continues to sing/scream as he restrains Jonny’s wrists above his head.  
  
“ _No! No! No! No! No!_ ” Pat continues, each ‘no’ accentuated with a light slap to Jon’s cheeks.  
  
“Fuck me,” Jon says as he continues to struggle in Pat’s merciless grip.  
  
And, in complete irony, Pat finishes the song with: “ _Any way the wind blows,_ ” with a gong sound effect and a wink.  
  
“C’mon Pat, you did your stupid routine, now let me up!” Jon shouts, but can tell that Pat isn’t listening to him, with the way he is concentrating on an area behind Jon’s head.  
  
“Oh, hey, golden stick!” Pat says, and like the four year old he is, lifts one of his hands to point at it, all the while still straddling Jonny’s midsection.  
  
Jonny cranes his neck to look behind his head, and hey, there is the golden stick. It’s in some kind of clear box, with a bright fluorescent light shining at it. He shoves Pat off of him, ignoring the undignified squeak Pat makes as he hits the dirt. Jon dusts himself off, and walks towards the stick, opening the box and grabbing it from its holder. He feels the victory seeping in his bones, and shows the small stick to Patrick, who gives him a hearty fist-bump for his troubles.  
  
“Pat, think you can find us a way out of here?” Jon says, with his first ‘smile’ of the night. It’s a weird quirk to his lips that looks more constipated than anything, with his dead shark eyes looking more lifeless in the dark forest. It would intimidate most people, hell, it intimidated him in his first few days rooming with the guy, but he has learned that gaining any type of emotional response from Jonny is a checkmark in the ‘win’ category. Emotionally stunted Canadians. Gotta love ‘em.  
  
Pat grabs for the map, but instead feels that suspicious uneasiness, when you feel like someone is watching you. He turns around, but sees only the trunks of trees. He turns back around to face Jonny, and it is only seconds later that he feels a black sack being forced over his head. He gasps out in surprise, and can hear the disgruntled groan Jonny lets out.  
  
Once Pat gets over his initial surprise, he feels anger take over. Fuck, they literally _just_ got the golden stick. They were going to fucking win this thing and be loved by all their teammates. He must repeat all of this out loud, because he feels his captor begin to tighten the duct tape that secures both of his wrists together, and Jon yells “god, Patrick, shut up and forget the fucking initiation!”  
  
Well, you can’t really blame Pat for being angry. He misses his study break, finds the stick, and then is kidnapped. _It’s shaping up to be a pretty shitty night,_ he thinks to himself.  
  
“Please, don’t hurt us. We are university students who go to Loyola, we mean no harm in being here. Let us go and we won’t ever say anything. Please, please, don’t hurt us,” Jonny begs, infinitely the voice of reason.  
  
What a fucking downer. God, this just may have made Pat’s list of top ten worst nights. Fuck, like they’re even going to believe Jon, who doesn’t have the scared little girl act even _somewhat_ working. He sounds like his mother is dragging him to church, a bored monotone with an edge of fear. To a normal person, he would sound calm and level-headed, but Pat, who has been rooming with the guy for 5 months, can tell the difference. He sounds like that time on the phone when he thought he forgot to wear a condom and got his girl pregnant; absolutely shitting his pants. Priceless. Absolutely priceless.  
  
“Pat?” Jon questions, struggling against his restraints. “Pat, where the fuck are you?”  
  
“Here, asshole,” Pat mumbles, voice muffled from the thick sack.  
  
Pat feels the presence of the person behind him, solid muscle as far as he can tell, and taller than him by about a foot. He’s got his hands tightly wrapped around Pat’s bound wrists, and is a constant pressure on his back, pushing him forward. Jon goes silent after Pat talks, and Pat clings on to the wisps of hope that he might be coming up with a plan, because his solving of differential equations won’t help them out in this situation.  
  
Pat continues to walk, but is pulled back by his wrists, indicating they’ve come to a stop. He can hear some faint murmuring, and can hear the crackle of a fire, along with the acrid smell of burning wood. The person behind him manhandles Pat into standing flat along a smooth, hard surface, probably a wooden board or rock. He tries to struggle, but the person clearly has the advantage, in size and the fact that Pat can’t see fucking shit.  
  
He hears Jonny grunt out: “get off me, you piece of shit,” with what Pat assumes to be his version of struggling. He feels rope being tightened across his midsection, tying him to the board. He feels panic begin to creep into his bones. This shit is serious; it’s not a joke anymore.  
  
He feels the sack being pulled of his head quickly, and Pat is momentarily blinded by the light coming from the bonfire in front of him.  
  
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he hears Jonny gasp. He looks up, and holy shit, there’s like 15 people in the crowd, sitting on benches made from wood. But that’s not the fucking weirdest part. These guys are all in dark navy robes, with the hoods pulled up. They have these crazy masquerade-like masques on, some of them looking like animals. What the fuck?  
  
“Jonny?” Pat squeaks. “Jonny what’s going on man?”  
  
He looks over to see Jonny, on the other side of the bonfire, looking completely terrified now, emotions in full display. “I don’t know Pat, I don’t know,” he whispers, surveying the area around them.  
  
“We have our candidates!” A gravelly voice booms from behind them, the loud cheers from the spectator’s deafening. Pat whips his head around to see that this person is in a black and red robe with a frightening [skull masque](http://theuglybugball.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/masquerade-phantom-sm.jpg) that covers the entirety of his face. Pat’s guessing that this guy’s the leader, then. He looks to the left of the leader and sees an emblem made of black and red swirls that he can’t really make out because of his weak peripheral vision.  
  
“The candidates are our leaders now! They will lead us through our most prized journey, be free of the greed and of the ignorance in our world. They will finally go _home._ ” The leader continues, gesturing his hands wildly.  
  
“ _Home,_ ” The spectator’s echo, sounding lifeless and dull.  
  
Patrick shoots a panicked look over at Jon, and is terrified to note that Jon shares the same look as him. He begins to scream ‘help!’ at the top of his lungs, because maybe one of the other guys in the forest will hear him. He thinks this might piss off the leader, because Pat’s kinda stealing his thunder here, but he definitely surprises Pat.  
  
“Yes, candidate! Scream for help!” The leader yells passionately. “Let him help you get home! Let the captain of the shuttle take you to your home!” He reaches into Pat’s pocket and says, “Here’s your two coins for your toll! May you live in everlasting happiness!” He practically skips over to Jonny, to presumably do the same thing.  
  
“Everlasting happiness,” the crowd drones, raising their hands to Jonny and Pat in a synchronized motion.  
  
“Dude, what home are you talking about? We live on residence, we go to Loyola University?” Patrick yells, confused as fuck.  
  
“No, dear candidate, you will go _home,_ to your everlasting paradise.” The leader responds, in his deep voice.  
  
Fuck, Buffalo’s a shithole, what the fuck is he talking about? “Where’s this _home_ you speak of?” Jonny questions sarcastically.  
  
“The motherplanet is the ninth planet after Uranus,” the leader spoke patiently and, as Pat imagines, would be giving Jonny a look similar to a look when scolding a child.  
  
Patrick lets out a snort. He just really can’t help it though. The leader zeroes in on him for a split second, and then turns to face his followers. “We must free the worthy spirits of their empty vessels, so that they may prosper on the motherplanet!” The leader yells with his arms spread open, absorbing the cheers of his followers in his chest.  
  
Bang. That’s right when Patrick gets it. They’re going to be sacrificed by some crazy cult. Jon must get it at the same time, because he looks over at Pat with wide, terror filled eyes. He blinks at Pat, and then sets his jaw, looking over at the leader in defiance.  
  
“NO! Don’t take him with you! He’s unworthy!” Jon yells, jerking his head wildly at Patrick. “He soul isn’t pure, you can’t let him enter the. . . _the motherplanet!_ He’ll only tarnish it! Only I’m worthy, so let him go!” And oh my god. Pat seriously can’t breathe. Right now’s totally not the time, but if he had ovaries, they would’ve exploded by now. Jonny’s sacrificing himself to save Patrick, holy shit.  
  
“Jonny shut the fuck up, we’re here together, we’re going down together,” Pat sends the equivalent of a mental fist bump to Jonny, and hopes that he understands what Pat’s trying to say. They room together, they are on the same line, and have been practically been living out of each other’s pockets since they met. They’ve been there for each other all that time, Pat’s sure as hell not abandoning him now.  
  
Jonny holds Pat’s gaze for a few seconds and then nods, and Pat slinks back against the wood, relieved.  
  
“SEND THEM HOME!” The leader shouts, and waves his hands around, going for a lap around the bonfire.  
  
“ _SEND THEM HOME!_ ” The followers chorus back.  
  
The followers turn the phrase into a chant as the leader begins to circle Pat, scanning the entire length of his body. He heaves a shaky breath, and suddenly freezes when he the aroma of something familiar wafts through his nose. He can’t place where he’s smelled it before.  
  
Suddenly, the leader begins this primal animal- like dance around the fire, and beings to skip across the front area around Jonny and Patrick, screaming gibberish sounds at the top of his lungs. Pat would laugh, but his mind is too consumed with fear to process anything else.  
  
The leader begins to skip his way up to Jonny, and looks him in the eye. Jonny, defiant to the last, hold his gaze, but the fright is blatantly present on his face. “Leave him alone, you piece of shit! Get away from him, or I’ll kill you myself!” Pat shouts, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins.  
  
Then the leader slowly peels his gaze from Jonny, and turns his body to face Pat. And that adrenaline _coursing_ through his veins? Yeah, that turned to ice.  
  
He walks over to Pat, and begins to scream in gibberish again and ‘bopps’ Pat on the forehead. He stops then, two centimetres from Pat’s face, and holds his eyes. He can feel the heavy breathing of the leader against the side of his cheek. He is frozen in anticipation, until-  
  
“Got it!” Someone from the back row of benches calls, holding up a video camera.  
  
And then, a multitude of things happened:

1\. A loud uproar of laughter began, shocking Pat’s ears.


 

2\. Everyone took of their masks and hoods, revealing the familiar members of the hockey team. Except for one person. Meaning...


 

3\. The leader took off his mask, revealing the smirking face of Sharpy.


 

4\. A round of applause began, with Sharpy taking a bow with a flourish towards Pat and Jon.


  
  
Pat, too shocked to move a muscle, doesn’t dare look over at Jonny, assuming that Jon’s face is just a slight variation of the ‘O’ face Pat is currently making. Pat allows himself about ten seconds to freak out, and then lunges at Sharpy, feeling the sting of the rope which restrains his movement. Damn, he forgot about those.  
  
“Sharpy you fucking asshole! Get me out of these fucking restraints so I can wring your fucking neck!” Pat screeches as he thrashes about in his rope cocoon. Sharpy is too busy wiping away his tears from laughter, bent over and still clutching his stomach. It took Keith, the alternate captain, to go and untie his binds, as well as Jonny’s. The second thet're off, Pat launches himself at Sharpy, and they begin to roll around in the dirt, as Pat is trying to land some successful punches to Sharpy’s pretty little face. See how much Abby loves him them.  
  
As he pulls back his fist, ready to crack one right down on Sharpy’s nose, he is suddenly lifted off of Sharpy by the back of his t-shirt. He flails around, until he looks back and sees it’s Seabrook, and then forces himself to calm down. Sharpy, he could take; Seabsie on the other hand, no. Pat knows that he's a small guy, and has learned to pick his battles wisely.  
  
“Look guys, I know you’re shaken up, but just think, this has happened to every single one of us,” Seabs explains as he holds on to the back of Pat’s shirt. Pat turns around to look back at Jonny, and sees that Duncs is holding the back of his shirt as well, with Bur on the ground, wiping the blood off his split lip. Well, at least they both knew who is really behind this prank. _That’s my boy,_ Pat thinks proudly, as Jonny shakes out one of his clenched fists.  
  
“God, this team’s so fucked up,” Jonny mutters as he brushes off Dunc’s hand on his back.  
  
“Well, how do you think we’re considered one of the best teams in the country? We’re all fucked up, man,” Sharpy says between laughs.  
  
“If it makes you feel any better, Sharpy cried like a like a little bitch when we did this to him, you guys were nowhere near as bad as he was,” Oduya says with a laugh, as Sharpy gets up and punches him in the arm, muttering: “You promised you would never bring that up again, asshole.”  
  
“Where are the other rookies?” Jon questions, speaking up for the first time since their near-death experience.  
  
The boys look sheepish, and that’s when Pat realizes. “You didn’t tell any other rookies, did you?” The apologetic smiles offered just confirm Pat’s suspicions. “What the fuck guys, you really couldn’t do this any other day? I have a calc examination tomorrow!”  
  
“Well, hey, smores!” Versteeg offers, holding up a bag of marshmallows, chocolate, and a box of graham crackers.  
  
-#-#-#  
  
“How did you guys manage to pull this off anyways?” Jon asks as he assembles another smores for Patrick, seeing as he somehow managed to glue his fingers together with melted marshmallow.  
  
“Well, we planted the ‘romantic rendez-vous’ thing with you guys in practice the other day, hoping you would remember it today, congrats on that, by the way,” Sharpy explains, as Pat gives him a mock salute. “We hid the hockey stick in a well-marked spot, so you two idiots would find it, and we hid in the bushes, waiting for you guys to head back the same way you came. We worried about not properly timing it, in case you guys were being stealthy, but thankfully, little Peeks made his presence announced early on.” Jon’s cheeks flush, remembering the screaming rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody that Pat performed. “From there on, we had Duncs and Seabs hide behind you guys to bag you, while we quickly set up, anticipating your arrival.” Sharpy finishes with jazz hands, fluttering his eyelashes. Jon and Pat simultaneously roll their eyes, and then Pat holds his fist out for a bump, because they’re fucking magic.  
  
Things begin to quiet down, and some of the guys begin to leave, tapping Pat and Jon on the shoulder, saying things like: “welcome to the team guys,” and “congrats guys, well done today.” It feels nice to be wanted, and to be truly part of the team, Pat thinks. Maybe Jonny was right after all, you’ve got to work to be accepted in such a successful team; even if it means getting sent to someone’s fucking homeplanet behind Jupiter. Speaking of which-  
  
“Sharpy, you have one twisted mind,” Pat says as he throws a marshmallow at his head.  
  
“What can I say, I was channeling my inner spirit animal,” Sharpy retorts with a glint in his eye.  
  
“Okay, fuck right off, I thought I was saying that in confidence,” Pat remarks, crossing his arms and pouting. Jon can’t help but think it’s adorable.  
  
Eventually, Sharpy leaves as well with one final lap around the fire, gesturing wildly with his hands. Jon and Pat both share a look and shake their heads, wondering how Sharpy is their captain.  
  
“Hey, you know, I really appreciated what you did for me today,” Pat says, determinedly looking anywhere but Jonny’s face. “Even though it was only a prank, the motive’s still there. Did you seriously mean what you said though? Would you actually save me?” Pat begins to trace circles in the dirt with the top of his vans.  
  
“In a heartbeat, Pat,” Jonny breathes, looking down at the fire.  
  
“Good,” Pat responds. “You too, y’know. I would too. We’re in this together.”  
  
“Okay,” Jon whispers, cheeks flushing as he looks back down.  
  
Pat shifts a bit closer on the wooden log, and stares down at the fire. He reaches out for Jon’s hand, and entwines their fingers. He briefly turns to gauge Jon’s reaction, but his face is blank.  
  
He looks back out to the woods, and feels it.  
  
Jon lightly squeezes his fingers, and rests their entwined hands on his muscled thigh.

 

(In the end, Pat ends up getting a 60% on his calculus examination, but he has his team, and _possibly_ Jonny. So, maybe this isn’t one of his top ten worst nights, but one of his best.)

 

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism is MUCH appreciated!
> 
> -Aria  
> 


End file.
